Cleaning Out His Desk
by Deinde
Summary: AU Wilson was the one to go pick up House at the bar, and now Amber is cleaning out his desk.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Cleaning out his desk

Author: Deinde

Summary: It was Wilson who went to pick up House, and now Amber is cleaning out his desk.

* * *

It was one week, three days, 7 hours and 38 minutes since the funeral.

It was two weeks, 9 hours, and 45 minutes since she had gotten the call from Princeton Hospital that he was dead.

It was Two weeks, 11 hours and 5 minutes since House had called Wilson's cell phone to come pick him up from the bar, and Amber was cleaning out his desk.

The note was found sealed at the bottom of his bottom drawer of his desk.

There was no address on the front, no stamp, and it was slightly discolored from age.

It was the last thing in the entire office she had to sort into the three piles of Work, keep, and get rid of. The was depressingly little in the keep box and depressing much in the Work box.

Amber tried to be careful not tear the envelope opening it, but the old glue popped open easily.

There were the curling loopy letters she had been seeing everywhere the last few days.

_I killed him, I killed the brilliant doctor House._

That was it. Written carefully in his neatest handwriting, centered on a page of standard 8x11 computer paper, a single crease cutting the words in half. No signature, no date, no explanation.

Amber sat on the floor, wrapped her hands around her knees, and cried for the first time.


	2. resignation letter

AN: I completely reworked the last chapter and deleted the stupid one about the ticker tape. You may want to go back an reread, sorry. I am unsure if this is gonna go anywhere, but it might.

* * *

_That Bastard_

Cuddy strode up towards her office fuming. Ripping open the outer door she glanced at her assistant desk. Enrico had quit last week. Behind the desk was a young female with very unpractical nails. Hair held back by Gucci glasses used as a headband, clothes that must have cost at least half a month's salary. She wouldn't last a week. There was no way House would leave this girl alone. Cuddy had a mind to give her a hard time herself. How did she type with those nails?

_She'll stay._

The thought hit her so suddenly she tripped over thin air.

She threw out a hand to balance her. The unpractical secretary looked up and raised an eyebrow in a way to ask "both are you okay?" and "how did you manage that?" in one smooth look. Maybe she was better than she appeared. Cuddy gave a weak, pathetic smile and a quick wave in return as she regained her footing and tried not to scream.

This unpractical thing would stay. She would be Cuddy's new secretary for as long as Cuddy could stand her because House would not drive her away, because House was dead.

She took several deep breaths, steeled herself for the sake of her sanity, and pushed open the door.

Boxes covered every surface. Her desk looked comical covered in stacks of paper, illuminated only by the outside light sneaking in from the cracks in the drawn blinds.

Cuddy shut the door behind her and leaned against it.

Here it was.

Cuddy had acted perfectly normal up till now. She had done her round to check up on doctors, she had greeted everyone with a smile, and now she was done for the day.

She technically had the day off. She had set aside her entire day for this. To the rest of the hospital, she wasn't here

Outwardly House leaving everything to the hospital seemed like a kind gesture. But like everything with House, it was an illusion.

It would take all day to sort through his junk.

She kicked off her high heels and padded forward.

Settling at her desk she pulled out the center drawer to grab a marker to start labeling and promptly got a lap full of pens, pencils, staples, and paperclips. She shuddered.

"Don't think, don't think, don't think about how that's the last time that'll ever happen to you."

She grabbed the first box and got to work.

It was while trying to find more files that she found the old letter stashed away where she forgot about it.

It was formal.

Every letter, every period, every capital was in place. It was professionally written and for a minute she assumed that it wasn't from House.

But she knew it was.

It was the professionalism that scared her the most, the effort behind it. Not the proud driven kind of effort of a first grader given their first big project, but the simple kind of effort to do the job right that any other professional would have done. That's how she had known he was serious.

Cuddy read the letter again.

_Gregory House M.D._

_Head of Diagnostics_

_Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital_

_134 Kent rd._

_Princeton, NJ 08536_

_Lisa Cuddy M.D._

_Dean of Medicine_

_Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital_

_134 Kent rd._

_Princeton, NJ 08536_

_January 4, 1994_

_Dear Dr. Cuddy,_

_I, Gregory House, regret to inform you that I am resigning my post as Head of Diagnostic Medicine here at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital due to personal circumstance. This should be taken as my one month notice of leave as outlined in my contract._

_I thank you for all the opportunities the hospital has given me._

_Sincerely,_

_Gregory House M.D._

Fuck.


End file.
